Heaven
by PunkxValentine
Summary: Everyone kept telling me Dad died like a hero. But I didn't believe that. Because heroes come back when they're hurt.


A/N: Just a quick little sad one-shot I did. OC is the daughter, just for quick clarifications, but I think we're all smart enough here to be able to infer that. So, enjoy, and please people, this is like a charity. I need something to keep me going, so a lil' review will do. I don't want your money or the lint balls in your pockets. Just a review. :-D

Disclaimer: Not that fiancially fortunate to own CSI or any of its wonderful characters. I do own my OC though, so HAH! Okay, maybe not her last name, but I still own at least half the name!

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Heaven

By: MC New York

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Leah Grissom's POV:

It seemed like a long walk down the hall just to get to my room, dragging my school bag behind me and jerking it along the carpet like it was heavy. It really wasn't, but I guess you could say that the day had gotten to me. I juggled my lunchbox and house keys in both hands, and even those seemed heavier today. The whole day felt heavy, and the worse part was that I knew why it was so "oppressive", as I had heard my Mom call it.

I stopped my struggle right outside of my Mom's door; Just standing there to listen. It was the expected sound. Crying. Sniffling. Attempts to hold the tears in, but it really didn't work. It never did. I felt my hand itch to open the door and my small body ached to be held in my Mom's loving embrace. But I dragged my belongings onward into the next room, which was my room.

Nudging the door open with my foot, I dropped everything right at the doorway as I walked over to my window sill. The one that led right to the rooftop of the garage that was attached to the house. Popping the safety screen off the already open window, I only grabbed my pen and diary from the small table by the window before jumping outside into the sticky, hot Las Vegas night air. The two pillows were still hammered into place right where they had been all this time. A year today.

I took my respective place on the right pillow and curled up facing the left pillow. I managed a small smile remembering how my Dad had told me that he wanted me to be to his right because I was his right hand and go-to girl. That smile disappeared, like it often did these days. It wasn't that I didn't want to smile, it was just that I couldn't anymore. But I tried. Because I knew that Dad loved my smile, just like he loved Mom's.

Today had been the absolute worst. And it wasn't only for the obvious reasons. It had been the day to bring your parents to class so they could talk about their jobs and embarrass us. And the fact that I was the only person in my class that didn't have her parents with her made everything hurt even more. But that had been my own fault, I guess. Mom had said I didn't have to go to school today if I didn't want too, but I still went just for my Dad. Because I knew that I'd be showing how strong I was if I went, even though I heard the other kid's parents talking about me in their secret whispers to each other.

"_Look... Poor kid. Her parents probably don't even care about her."_

"_Another case of the useless and deadbeat parents, I guess."_

"_John! Don't say that! You don't know that little girl's parents. How are you so quick to judge?"_

Sure, I had been mad. By the time school was over and my Uncle Greg had come to pick me up, a sad look in his eyes, the palms of my hands were bleeding from my nails digging into the skin when I made my hand into a fist. My hands were still sore, but I had other pain to deal with than just my stupid hands. Like all the other parents' comments on my parents and Ali Hume – the biggest bully in the second grade – making fun of me that my Mom and Dad weren't there. I wanted to use that new punch Uncle Warrick had taught me out on her, but I saw Dad standing there in my mind, shaking his head "no" and telling me that hitting someone wouldn't make things right.

Snuggling closer to my Dad's side of the roof, I squeezed my bi-colored eyes shut as I felt the tears rising. I didn't want to cry. Dad hated it when I cried, so I held it in.

"_Ha ha! Gap Tooth Leah's Mom and Dad are no-shows again! And I thought you said they loved you!"_

My small hands trembled as they balled back into a fist, gritting my teeth. And the tears came on stronger. I hated her even more than I hated eating my carrots. She knew exactly why my Dad was a no-show, too. If it hadn't been for her Dad, my Dad would've still been alive... I didn't understand much about why it happened, but I understood that much, and that was enough for me. Ali's Dad killed mine.

It was a year today... A year since my Dad left Mom and me here by ourselves. But not just us. Everyone where he worked with Mom too. Uncle Greg, Aunt Catherine, Uncle Warrick, Uncle Nicky... Everybody. But Mom took it the hardest. I heard her almost every night saying to herself, _"Why couldn't he have just let me take the bullet? Why him?"_

Everyone kept telling me Dad died like a hero. But I didn't believe that. Because heroes come back when they're hurt. My Dad still hasn't come back to tuck me in or kiss me goodnight like he always used to do. I kept my diary open beside my bed though, just in case he came back in the middle of the night and wanted to know what happen has been happening with me and everyone else while he was gone. Just in case everyone was wrong and Dad was just taking a long vacation. I told him at the end of every message to leave a note back so that I would know how he was. There never was one, so I think it's safe to say that he hasn't come back yet.

As much as I missed him and wanted him to come home, though, I didn't only want him back home for me. I wanted him back for Mom too. She wasn't herself anymore. Mom didn't smile her smile as much anymore either, and every other night, I'd catch her looking at pictures of Dad and her, or of Dad and me, or of all of us while there were tears inside her brown eyes, just before she left for work. It was what Uncle Nick called, "adult love". I didn't know that there had been different types of love, but it was obvious that adult love hurt more. I didn't know how that was possible. Because whenever I thought about my Dad or when Mom, Dad, and me spent time together, it hurt. It made me want to cry, it made my tummy tighten, and I found it hard to breath sometimes, like I forget how to breath. I didn't like it.

I reopened my eyes, truly hoping that I'd see my Dad laying next to me, his blue eyes just staring at me with a smile on his lips. Then he grab me in a hug and start tickling my sides and tummy. But it didn't work that time either. It never worked.

Sitting up, I grabbed my pen and diary and opened it up to a fresh page. A tear snuck past my blue eye and slid down my cheek as I read the last bit in the last message I'd left.

"_Daddy... If you're reading this, please come back. I don't want Mommy to cry anymore. I don't want to play hide-and-go seek anymore. Just come out, okay? I love you."_

That was a week ago. I wrote down the date in my best handwriting and began.

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Sara's POV:

Wiping my bloodshot eyes free of the hot tears that expelled themselves down my flush red cheeks, my brown eyes flashed over to the neon bright alarm clock that was on Gil's side of the bed. Releasing one of my arms from the death grip I had on Gil's pillow, I twisted the clock for a better view.

_7:31._ I read in my mind. _Great. I've been crying for twenty-nine minutes this time. Definitely progress, Sidle. Definitely._

I heard the soft footsteps of my daughter just three minutes ago. It had taken me three whole minutes just to compose myself. I absolutely despised this person I had become. I used to be the mentally strong one that never cried but just one glance at a picture or memory of our life together sent tears over the edge of my eyes. Even Leah has turned an unemotional front in public, but I know the truth behind her bedroom walls. She missed her Dad as much as I missed my... boyfriend? Gil wasn't my husband. He was the father of my child, my lover, my best friend, my "would've been" fiancée if it hadn't been for the suspect returning to our scene. My eyes began to sting as I recalled the memory, very painfully.

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_Flashback_

_An uproaring crash was heard back in the living room of the Reynold's home. My slightly rounded, four-month pregnant stomach hindered me from jumping straight up from where I hovered over a bloody hand print dried up on the dining room table, but not by much. Gil was by my side in an instant, gun drawn and hollering out the suspect had returned to the scene to the stationed cop outside. But it was quickly acknowledged that all of the cops had left to follow Brass to a major abuse call several blocks away from this house._

_A knot twisted wrench-tight inside of my stomach as we slowly approached the doorway to the living room. That's when the suspect came rushing around the corner, the butt of a Revolver raised to knock out anyone it encountered. The Revolver's butt was aligned perfectly with my head but Gil dropped his gun in a fraction of a second to deflect the suspect's blow, using his forearm to parry the attack. I was knocked back on my ass when the suspect started to spasmodically jerk the gun that both of them had a firm grip on away from Gil, but forced Gil to accidentally bump backwards into me._

_From the floor, I scrambled over to where Gil had dropped his Glock 17. It was heavier than the Glock 19 they issued to me, but I still aimed through the dark, trying to get the perfect shot on the suspect. My shots were interfered by Gil getting in the way in his struggle to get the Revolver away from this crazed man. The entire time, Gil remained between me and the suspect, and just as the perfect visual came through, Gil had lost the battle over the gun when he was kneed in the stomach. The Revolver exploded just as the Glock exploded, but in the end, I was the only one that hadn't gotten hit by a bullet._

_Getting shot in the mid-section by a high-powered Revolver at close range left nothing to the imagination in regards to what it looked like. I had completely disregarded where I shot the suspect, and found I had achieved a perfect headshot. He sat still while Gil writhed in pain, spitting up blood as he tried to twist onto his knees. I grabbed the radio to radio in that an officer was down before turning all of my focus onto Gil. My Gil._

_I gently coaxed him onto his back once more, taking his hand in my hand while running my free hand through his soft curls. His blue eyes had difficulty focusing on just me as they began to cloud over. Gripping his hand a little firmer, I trailed the hand in his hair down to his shaven face. He had meant to shave tonight, but hadn't found the time when we were already running late from our last minute escapade. We'd just gotten word that we were expecting a son and Leah was expecting a baby brother in little than five months._

_I urged him not to move or talk as I attempted to assess the damage visually, thinking back to a pre-EMT course I'd taken when I was seventeen for a way to save him until the paramedics arrived. But he insisted upon talking. And it took him some time to say the four words he was desperate to say, but he said them in due time._

"_I love you, Sara..."_

"_Gil, please don't go. Not yet." I pleaded, tear drops already pitter pattering onto my slightly rounded stomach as I took my last clean pair of gloves from my back pocket. "Please just hang on. I love you too, but please don't go!" Covering up the fatally large wound with the gloves, I applied steady and firm pressure in the desperate hopes of stopping the active blood flow._

_A fruitless endeavor. _

The drops of salty tears continued to fall in the form of a river as I sunk down slowly to his side, perching my head up on his chest, listening tot he now hollow silence within.

_End of Flashback

* * *

_

My hand flew to my empty and uninhabited stomach. Salt had been added to the wound three days after the incident that I had miscarried the baby boy I had been carrying. Catherine had truly been there for me during that time, and has been ever since.

Rolling out of bed, I exited the room I used to share with Gil. The door was silent as I opened it and stepped out into the hall. I had been selfish this past year, however. Or at least, that's how I felt. My daughter had experienced the same, if not worse, pain with the loss of her Dad. Gil had done everything with Leah and, for the obvious reasons, was the one that was wrapped most tightly around her pinkie finger when put in comparison to everyone else in Leah's life. And Leah had adored her Dad. I wasn't the only one hurting.

I gave my daughter more credit than I ever gave anyone. She put on that face everyday and continued on. I did as well, but it was when I was by myself that I broke down. I had gotten busted by her several times and it had been _her_ that comforted and held _me_ all the while. The positions eventually reversed themselves as I felt the need to steel myself up around Leah while her defenses fell down.

Prodding my daughter's bedroom door open slightly, I noticed the light was on like it had been for every night this past year. The electric bill had sky rocketed, but I paid it no mind. Her book bag, lunchbox, and house keys acted as a doorstop, deposited directly in front of the door. My eyes shifted from the floor to her twin bed, only to see it was empty. Next, I looked to the window. As I suspected, the screen was popped out and was wide open.

Gil had often sat outside with Leah before she had to go to bed and we had to go to work. They'd stargaze, talk about whatever was troubling their brilliant minds, or just sit in absolute silence, enjoying each other's company. It was a place of bonding between them and Gil had eventually gone out and nailed two pillows to the roof when it was a nightly thing for the two. I had laughed when Leah told me it was strictly a "Dad/Daughter" thing. So, often times now, Leah would lay out there for hours if you let her, trying to remain as close to her Dad as she could. She still held hope that Gil would return one day. I didn't have the heart to correct her otherwise, when deep down, I held the same false hope in my non-naive heart.

Slipping out onto the garage rooftop, I crept carefully over to where my daughter's still and fragile body lay. She had her Lady Bug journal clamped tightly to her chest and even in the dark I could see the tear streaks down her pale skin. Her brown and blue bi-colored eyes were shut to the world. Her evened out breathing through her mouth exposed the gap between her two front baby teeth. Gil had found that cute on her, but just like I had been in school, she was ridiculed by people for it. And not just anybody, but the daughter of the man that had taken Gil's life away. Ever since I found out _who_ exactly Ali Hume was, I had been searching for an alternative school for Leah to attend before she let her short temper get the best of her. And Leah wasn't stupid by any means. She knew _exactly_ who Ali's family was.

Laying Leah against my chest and slightly on my hip, I freed a hand to hold her diary and pen separate. It felt wrong, but every night I read what she wrote to Gil. She left him short messages and entries of her day or week and ask him to write back. I had considered writing up a note, but fought against it. Even when I'd read one line in one of the entries that said, _"Daddy? Do you still love me? Why aren't you writing back? I promise I'll eat all my carrots if you just write back and tell me 'I love you'."_

Ducking back into the room, I situated her comfortably under the covers of her bed and tucked her in securely, brushing back the curly brown long locks of hair that pooled out over her precious face and kissing her lightly on the forehead. Carefully, I sat down on the side of her bed and opened up to the new page. After reading, and seeing the tear drops all over the pages, my heart broke even more if that was possible and laid down next to Leah. We were slim enough to fit the twin bed comfortably. I wrapped my arms protectively around her body and fell asleep beside her, drifting off into a restless sleep about the time before the destruction and pain happened, my daughter's message clear in my mind – word for word.

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_"August 14, 2011_

_It's been a year Daddy, and I still really, really miss you. And so doesn't Mom._

_I had your favorite dinner tonight over at Uncle Greg's. I ate everything on my plate. I even ate all my carrots like I was supposed to! Aren't you proud of me? Uncle Greg doesn't make it as well as you do, but it was still good._

_I learned how to swim this week. Not even how to Doggy Paddle. Actually swim! I can even open my eyes underwater and see all the fishes swimming around. But it makes my eyes hurt when I get back up. I even float underwater and watch the sky like you used to do. I wish you could see me._

_Today was Parents' Day in school. I hated it. I wish you were there. Ali Hume was making fun of me again, and calling me Gap Tooth Leah and Mix-Match Mix-up Child. And all of the parents were judging everything about you and Mom. They called you useless and said you didn't love me. You still love me, right Daddy?_

_I had your picture in my lunchbox today. The lunchbox you bought me last year. My Lady Bug one. Some kid tried to steal the picture from me when I was looking at it, but I smacked him across the head with my lunchbox. He told on me to Miss Casey and Uncle Greg had to come pick me up. I'm trying not to get into trouble, Daddy, but without you here I don't know what to do._

_I don't care what those parents say about you though... You're the greatest Dad ever._

_I swung on the swing today by myself! But I still miss you pushing me and giving me Underdogs. I wish you could've seen me._

_I miss how you used to tickle my tummy. My tummy hurts._

_I try not to cry and be there for Mom. Uncle Nicky says it's okay to cry, but I don't want to because I know you don't like it when I cry. I know what it means to be sad now, and it's worse than when we lost Herbert the Tarantula. I try not to be sad, Daddy, but it hurts. Are you sure you're not coming home? Maybe some day, right? Maybe I could visit you, wherever you are._

_It's time for me to go to bed now, though... I'm still sleeping with the light on, just in case you come home and kiss me goodnight. I love you so much. I miss you Daddy._

_Please don't forget about us._

_Love always,_

_Leah Sidle-Grissom_

**The End.

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A/N2: And special thanks to **forensicsgirl97** for being my wonderful, outstanding, stupendous beta for simply being her and not going Kurt Cobain when/while she read this. XD Don't ask, long story. But I hope you enjoyed, and Happy Holidays to everyone!

Peace out, one love,  
MC New York


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